So adulting is hard. Am saying it out loud.Rather, am writing it in bold. Makes me a wuss then so be it. Manage expectations, responsibilites and every relation in your life. I would have a Phd in Juggling if there was ever a degree for that sorta thing I would like to imagine.And this is while I don’t yet have to shoulder additional responsibilities of a family of my own.

Well honestly it’s tough doing all that anyways.

Ofcourse dear reader you know all that and that’s why you are here with me.

Then what do you do in the middle of all that. How do you get past all this and not just survive but thrive in adulthood? You could stop thinking altogether . But that might not yet be an option for some of us. Then what?It’s really that simple and that complicated.

You find your happy place, you find your best friend, you understand that both are YOU.

The origin of all happiness, the companion of all sorrows, the force of positivism that’s going to keep everyone around you positive and yet attract all those parasitic type characters also. It’s all you.

It doesn’t end there, oh no it doesn’t. You, you beautiful being, you go out there and BE POSITIVE. And be aggressively so. It requires no extra effort really.If you feel you don’t have it, pull yourself up physically and reach out to just anyone, give them a booster shot of positivity .It’s like a muscle you just need to keep exercising. Once you get it into shape it acts on it’s own.(I totally exclude the clinically depressed here)

Conjure your light from within,when you are swirling in the quagmire of negative thoughts that the events around you manage to inject into you , and let your light burst forth.Let your damn light shine. Something like the Gandalf and Necromancer face off in the ‘Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug’ movie.(Though that didnot end very well for Gandalf but you get the point right)

Fortunately that’s one of the few things in the world that you know can only result in something good and the best part is you are obligated to no one in the process of doing so.Not indebted, not failing any standards to be met and not even disappointing anyone.

And if you can’t do it on your own, find help, because child you need to find a way to find your light.Or else you will be lost looking for it in the crowd.However, I hope you are lucky enough to find a true guide who will help you find it.

But once you do, get out there and shine like the brightest star, because it’s the sort of light that can only grow brighter once you share it. And stay bright. It’s going to be hard to be so bright because even when you shine, all everyone wants is for you to shine on their terms nothing more or less . The worst sort are those who just want to suck it all out for themselves and still take you for granted.Keep away from them. Lucky are the few who finds companionship in someone who is proud of their light and seeks to mutually nurture it. I hope you find that someone. But until then , shine bright and be positive- aggressively.

Almost a decade earlier a young girl began an exodus when she left the place she called home with a little bit more excitement than was appropriate. She was but a caterpillar. Now a decade later, after somehow finding her way in and out of a cocoon of metamorphosis(or so she would like to believe), she is a butterfly and has stretched her wings to fly back home.
People changed, Places changed , Her definition of home , the place she called home and loved ones changed and yet she goes back to only thing that held constant throughout the whole journey- Family. That little world no matter how imperfect, which in spite of having drastically changed through the years ,is the only thing that remained true to her.
She goes back with the satisfaction of a journey travelled well-In terms of personal experiences and distances covered.

She also goes back witha reservoir of memories (which her close people will tell you, she is obsessed with ), and a handful of people who made time spent with them the most precious parts of the journey, relationships which she chooses to carry back with her to enrich her life from here on.

Memories of the life before the exodus are vague, and yet it’s from those memories she must learn to remember what her life should be like now that she is back. But make no mistake, she is well equipped with her experiences to help her return to family-To make the transition of the life of a nomad to the life of a settler much easier. She chose to make this return. She knows it’s the right time. She seeks the blessings of mother earth to embrace the new uncharted life that lies ahead. She is humbled by how much there is to learn and yet she is hopeful that the exodus will strengthen her in her journey onward. Overwhelmed by the enormity of the task ahead,

Yup..Turns out I am..took a test and everything http://www.hsperson.com/pages/test.htm.. It was a self test to check for high sensitivity and well yeah no points for guessing how I fared 😛 As the title suggests..Highly Sensitive..Man, must be the only test in which I scored so damn well 🙂 With that background( I am trying to get the american teenage girl/boy out of my head because am thinking and hence writing with that kinda accent! Consequence of recently being addicted to Vampire Diaries..Pardon me)

So, with that background, am free to explore this one topic that has plagued me for a strong part of my life. Being Sensitive.. Cultural perceptions have a strong influence on how sensitivity is perceived. And being sensitive need not equate to being a weakling or spoilt brat!That’s what I understand from the writings of Dr. Elaine Aron PhD, author of the book ‘ The Highly Sensitive Person’ ( Americans.. Have research on everything! :P)

Wow..liberating..Have a strong mother-figure in my life..Mom..means crying was seen as oh! so bad.. Be strong..Be strong was the constant chant spoken into my ears since as far as I can remember and it has not done good things to my concept of self. Constantly beating myself up for underperformance, crying, not tolerating abundant stimuli(I cant be around screaming people or people who talk loudly) is a daily make-up of who I am..Cities..Urgh..I hate them! The traffic the noises..the hurry..the rudeness..stifles me.. and you know what..

Its OK.Breathe.. 🙂 ..I may be sensitive but I am not weak..Infact its easy to be strong when you are not sensitive..Try it when you are aware of all of it! And yet I am strong, inspite of being sensitive..Here and now, in this moment I have the courage to say to myself and to you..I am sensitive but not weak. And yes I am tearing up as I write this statement because its been a long and tiring battle..no..WAR against myself.. And thats the worst sort..Its gonna come back though..My need for reassurance and that too will be fought..valiantly..No am not an addict, and yes I have a stable home, And no I have not been abused in anyway..

Yeees , thats the sad truth about it..I would refer you to a facebook page of an artist whose’s recent work has given the melancholy of my heart a visual form.https://www.facebook.com/vimalpaintings..His recent collection’ Unposted letters’ have such a sweet simplistic depth that it translates to profound..In experience..Profound to experience..I am not devastated yet..Just Melancholic..And what sweet melancholy it is..It has a lovely ring to it, I think, Melancholy..It’s tough to separate fear, uncertainity, vulnerability and the million feelings that come with a breakup and to just see and identify Melancholy..and experience it..But Vimal’s Painting collection of ‘Unposted letters’ helps me do just that..Melancholy for all that was and all that could have been in a perfect world..But what is perfect and what is not, who is to say..It is and I feel it..and I got to experience it..That I see as a gift..I have experienced Happiness..in all forms I would like to imagine..The ecstatic, the simple, the profound..I have experienced sadness..as a tempest for most part..Like the raging seas and thunder and lightning sort..But Melancholy..Thats new..It hurts..But apparently it shows am alive..Philosophical nonsense..But there is a sense of the profound in this feeling of Melancholy..It’s hard to give words to..I would like to refer you to a blog post I read that treats Melancholy so beautifully and gives it the ode it deserves.. http://embodimentchronicle.wordpress.com/2012/01/28/the-happiness-of-melancholy-appreciating-the-fragile-beauty-of-life-and-love/..I guess that is experiencing Melancholy on a whole different level but I would like to think of it as one of the more human experiences that needs to be painted in a new light..It may be sweet sorrow..It may be gentle waves crashing at your feet bringing bitter-sweet memories..It may be the sad notes played on a flute..But to the person experiencing it in the fullness of the moment..all poetic reference may be lost and it becomes simply and purely what it is..Melancholy.

Yes, its a difficult phase right now,pulling my act together..A quote tells me..When we don’t know the answers we must learn to live the question because then somewhere in the future..we might be worthy of living the answers..the author is Rainer Rilke..Its difficult..To live the question..It takes everything out of you..It pushes you to points of helplessness that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy..But there you are,You’re living the question, and how,the last time I was in a limbo state like this was i guess before I got my admissions to a university for my bachelors..But that somehow didnt feel painful..Of course..the reasons for my pain now are much more personal and intimate now but I see people around me going through that same state of unsettlment..Unrest..It hurts me..Not just my pain..but the collective unrest that my generation is going through at this phase..All we can do is sit tight and flow through to the transition to the next phase..Living the question..Birthing pains..Only pain gives rise to new beginnings..Healthy beginnings..Thats about as much as optimism I permit myself..But then is there the fear? Of what after you get the answer?Yes, ofcourse..the mundane existance that awaits once the answers arrive..then what? What what what what what!!…Breathe…Live the question..Live in the moment.

It took me awhile..To see that I was the proverbial damsel in distress..Took me even longer to realize I myself was the knight in shining armor..And it took forever to get the knight to focus on the most important damsel in distress..In this case- myself..It was as clear as day to some people..Those who bothered at least..that I was as insecure as it gets..Inadequacy plagued me all my life and I wondered how did it go unnoticed all this time..WHen actually it was being noticed..I guess i was so busy flowing with the current of life that i never took time to look at myself..And actually see me. ANd what if I saw..WHat next..the knight was in no mood to look at the damsel because the knight was too busy saving everyone else..But well..ALmost after a year of arriving on the banks of my inner river of peace and strength..I guess am finally brave enough to dip a toe into it.The knight has finally decided to turn around and save this damsel first..And fall in love with her.. and see her for the beautiful creature she is..SHe tried high and low to find validation..of herself..of her trials and triumphs and joys and miseries..and yet she seeked without..not knowing she has to seek within and even then it seemed so ridiculous..WHat was there to seek within she asked..And no one had an answer..COz the answer was no one else’s to give..It was her’s to seek and find..To scale the walls that separated her from her knight and to scream out to him, drag him, to get him to pay attention to her..It took all these years of realization..facing and leading upto acceptance of all her mind blocks and chains which was what that wall was built with, to get over it..to peek and see the knight..soo busy saving other lives..But yes she is lucky she has a knight like that in her..Proof to her she is not totally damaged..And thats a relief..OFcourse the addiction of the wall will pull her in the future..No one wants to be happy for too long..it gets well, it gets kinda boring..She was told in so many words to appreciate her gifts..To be proud of who she is..But she wanted validation from the one person who couldnt give it to her..The people who laid the foundation the wall..She didnt realize that she had the choice to break it before it got too big..It got big and she was the one who made it…Brick by brick..But the poor darling didnt know better..She was but a slave to the wall..And now for the first time..SHe sees the wall..cracking..Pushing forth light..light she dared not hope could be hers.. and yet its here..falling through the cracks..ANd the river is helping..The river within..The river of inner joy, companionship and peace.

She brought me chilled skinned, sliced mangoes..with a fork so i dont have to soil my hands while doing oh so important stuff on my laptop..And she limps away with her aching legs..Resigned to the fact that I am her lazy daughter who wont help her and who won’t give her granchildren..Its summer..mangoes galore..Am 24 and she still skins my mangoes for me..Asks me what I want to eat..and relentlessly makes the best she can..She doesn’t get me most of the time..the generation gap doesnt permit it..But a slight paleness and there is panic over my Hb count..Tells me even inspite of herself that I should be proud of my thoughts and the way I feel about the world..That I should in any circumstances stand independently and be strong from within..Thats a mother for you.. A generation of mothers who distill the purest form of love in this world..Last remains of untainted pure love..Its good to know..I live alone for awhile now so at home even her skinned and sliced mangoes are not taken for granted..I wonder who would look upon me with so much love and disappointment ever..Who would give a damn like the way a mother would..Inspite of themselves..Relentlessly..till their dying day..

No one.

I am eating the sliced mangoes..and grateful to the universe for my most precious gift..My mother.

I am a cultureless bastard..Period. I belong to multiple cultures..The one my parents belong to, the one my parent country taught me, the one my parents country expect from me inspite of never having lived there,the one the places i have been to for studies have inculcated in me..And well so on and so forth..Everywhere i have been to i have been looked down upon because of my being from a certain culture..or not..I mean of u go for a country like india..based on the very minute detail of which god u bow down to there will be an either looking up or looking down let alone factors like sexuality or ideologies..depending on who is the majority in that area..And if you are amongst your own so called people..You will definitely be looked down upon if you dont bow down the exact way and the exact number of times that the others do to the same god. So you see..multiple cultures..in essence belonging everywhere..actually belonging nowhere..like having a surname..but not sure if its yours or one thats just taken to mould into the place you are in.. and the emotional blackmail..wow..the emotional blackmail..and thats exactly where they get you..parents being the they..darling human beings they are..but makes you feel apologetic for every darn thing you are..How can one feel such limitless bounds of sorry for the simple fact of who they are…I AM..ladies and gentlemen.. therefore I apologise..I THINK..ladies and gentlemen..therefore I apologise..I AM NOT APPROPRIATE..ladies and gentlemen.. and therefore i yet again apologize..I AM A WOMAN..ladies and gentlemen.. and a radical thinker without a voice and for that..for that i apologise to no one but myself..I am sorry my dear dear self..that i cant do more for you..I wish i could..but i cant..you hang in there..I heard in a talk once..the moment people talk to you..they are boxing you..boxing you into compartments..tiny tiny little boxes..and that and only that can be the validity of your existence..and another faction represented by a friend assures me that even parts of the world where they claim individual freedom, its negated by the fact that they don’t care about each other..But well, on observation sadly, i would have to inform her that neither does this conformist world care..No body cares anyway at the end of the day.. then why confirm??? I am validating this to my conditioned conscience over and over and over again because it doesn’t seem to want to liberate itself..Its stuck in that ever present rut to please every single person on the planet and then again..ANd yes..this cultureless bastard walks around trying so hard to confirm everywhere..and feeling guilty at every act of rebellion so much so that it gives me a headache..Belonging to a million worlds and belonging nowhere..Then again, is belonging overrated?? Yes indeed..For a nomad like me who has seen amazing sides of all the worlds I have been to, I wouldnt trade any bit of my experiences for all the belonging in the world…So if the self donned title of cultureless bastard and a bit of guilt is the price to pay..So be it 🙂 I will continue..to educate..try atleast to rebel within the confines of my little mind and through little acts of rebellion..let my actions speak for themselves..let me lead the way for breaking of the old and paving way for the new..MAn do i feel like a pioneer or what.. 🙂 Feeling optimistic..rosepens.